


Tongue Tied

by inthesnowglobe



Series: The Lady of Winterfell [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Bondage, PWP, Sansador, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthesnowglobe/pseuds/inthesnowglobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lady of Winterfell has been having a lot of complaints from the surrounding villages. Someone has been tearing apart the local taverns and inns of the surrounding countryside. When the culprit is brought in, Sansa decides to deal with them head on and alone. </p><p>Just because the smutty stuff is so fun to write. ^_^</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tongue Tied

“We have the prisoner in the dungeons, my lady.”

 

“And was he harmed?”

 

“No, my lady. We found him drunk and passed out.”

 

Sansa smirked. Nothing changes. “Surely we can find him more comfortable accommodations than the dungeons.”

 

“I think a dank cell is just what he needs, if you want my opinion.”

 

“Which I will surely ask for if insanity ever strikes me,” she said sternly. Gods, she had grown into her mother.

 

The man walked out of her solar and down the halls to presumably move the prisoner to a better part of the castle. It was early in the morning and Lady Sansa of Winterfell hadn't even had her hair done yet. Her handmaidens were worthless. She looked out her door and found her shield, Ser Payne, standing vigilantly by her door.

 

“Pod, where are those dimwitted handmaidens of mine?”

 

Podrick smiled easily. He was an able fighter and pleasant company. He had been her first husband's squire before he was knighted if she remembered correctly. “I'm not sure, my lady. Would you care for me to find out?”

 

“Please do, Pod. I would hate to see the day wasted because my hair was not done.”

 

“Yes, my lady.” Pod smiled and moved off down the corridor.

 

Sansa went back to her solar and busied herself with the large pile of scrolls that had accumulated on the table. The war was three years over but there was still so much to do. Queen Daenerys had done some serious damage with those bloody dragons of hers and it seemed that half of the North had to be rebuilt not to mention her beloved cousin, Jon, was always requesting support on the Wall. Sansa sighed and set to answering the most urgent correspondence.

 

She was halfway done when Pod returned with the flustered handmaidens in tow. She waved away their hurried apologies and sat to have her hair braided. It was an affectation that she herself didn’t understand, but she preferred the southern way that she had always donned in King's Landing.

 

After they were done with her hair they set to work on tidying up her solar and her bedchambers. Sansa left them to their busy work and opened the door to break her fast with Arya with Podrick following dutifully behind her.

 

“Pod, what is your opinion on our new guest?”

 

“Well, my lady,” Podrick started. “I suppose it depends on if he is a guest or a prisoner.”

 

Sansa smiled. “That will depend on the mood I find him in when I meet with him. Pod, I want you to see to it personally that he is being treated with every comfort we can afford. Just don’t let him wander the castle. Give him breakfast and a chamber with a soft bed. And for Gods' sakes, make sure he has wine.”

 

“Yes, my lady.”

 

Podrick left her at the great hall to tend to his newly appointed tasks and Sansa was left to find Arya. Her sister was shoveling bacon and fried bread into her mouth at one of the long tables with the master smith, Gendry. She was talking and laughing loudly and waving her arms around in over exaggerated gestures. They seemed to be in each other's company a lot.

 

Sansa made her way over to them and sat down beside Arya. “Wouldn't you be more comfortable at the high table, Arya?”

 

“No,” her sister muttered through a mouth full of food.

 

Sansa sighed. “Very well,” she said as she started to pour herself some sweet white wine and loaded her plate with an appropriate amount of food.

 

“So what was all the fuss in the yard this morning?” Arya asked.

 

“The riders brought in a new guest,” Sansa said.

 

“Do _guests_ always put up such a fight?”

 

“Did you see him?” Sansa said suddenly as she looked up from her plate.

 

“No, they had a sack over his head. Who is it?”

 

Sansa knew better than to answer that question honestly. Her sister might slit his throat before Sansa ever even had a chance to speak with him. “Just some drunken fool causing problems out in the villages. Starting fights and the sort.”

 

It wasn't a lie. She had had several appointments from the residents of the outlying villages. A tavern or inn keeper complaining about him roughing up the locals and getting overly drunk and violent. For the past six months, he had been skirting around the walls of Winterfell; to what purpose she wasn't sure.

 

“Not the one that tore up the Mill?” Gendry asked her referring to one of the taverns just out of the gates. “Mi'lady,” he added remembering he was speaking to the Lady of the Castle.

 

Sansa looked at him reproachfully. “One in the same, Mr. Water's,” she said rising from her seat. “Arya, stay out of trouble.”

 

Arya scoffed and took a long pull from her mug of ale.

 

“Encouraging,” Sansa said as she turned to leave.

 

Outside of the hall, Podrick was waiting for her. “Pod, don't you eat or sleep?”

 

“Eating and sleeping can wait when there are beautiful ladies to protect.”

 

Sansa smiled at him prettily. “Where was our guest taken, Pod?”

 

“He is on the east side of the castle, my lady; in the empty master-at -arms' chamber. He is quite comfortable there. He has eaten his breakfast and been given seconds along with a flagon of sweet white wine.”

 

“Ah, then he might not be our guest after all. He will be convinced that we are trying to poison him with Arbor gold.”

 

“My lady?”

 

“Send for some red. Something sour and then go into the great hall and break your fast, Pod.”

 

“And will my lady like an escort when she meets with the tortured prisoner?”

 

Sansa smiled again. “Your droll wit is always amusing, Pod, but no. I will go meet with him while you are eating at your leisure.”

 

Podrick was visibly distressed. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but you can't mean to meet with him without me. The Ho-”

 

“I am well aware that he is dangerous,” Sansa said cutting him off. “To most people. I am not most people.”

 

“My lady-”

 

“Pod. Go eat. Do not make the mistake in thinking that I am _asking_ you.”

 

Pod straighten to his full height at the admonishment. “Yes, my lady,” he said as he turned and walked into the great hall. She smiled at his retreating back. He had always gone above and beyond the call of duty to ensure her safety, even if it meant skipping breakfast.

 

Maester Tarly approached her as she was heading to the east side of the castle. “My lady, if it were not too inconvenient, there was a raven from the Citadel on a matter most important.”

 

Sansa sighed. “Very well, Sam. Any other ravens this morning?”

 

“Yes, my lady. Two others.”

 

She didn’t see the harm in delaying her task further so she followed Sam up into his tower to answer anymore impending correspondence. One was from Lord Commander Targaryen on the Wall. Jon was asking for more men. The other was from The Eyrie.

 

Sansa threw the scroll with the mockingbird seal into the fire without opening it.

 

Finally, when she was done, Sansa headed towards the east side of the castle to where the usual master-at-arms' chambers were. If they _had_ a master-at-arms. She saw two armed knights standing on either side of the heavy wooden door that her _guest_ was staying in.

 

“Sers,” She greeted them. “Feel free to break your fast. Your services will not be required.”

 

The two men looked at each other in confusion before giving her a curt nod of their heads and departing for the great hall.  She waited until they were out of sight before steeling herself and reaching for the handle.

 

She found herself nervous.

 

She turned the iron ring and pushed open the door. She suddenly wasn't so sure of herself. This was a dangerous enterprise. She hadn’t seen this man in nearly five years. What if he was the butcher at Saltpans? What if she wasn't a little bird anymore? Whoever they were now, she was who she was because of him. It had always been his voice echoing in her mind when she was unsure of herself. He had given her more strength than any of the other people in her life.

 

Pulling herself together, Sansa pushed open the door and stepped into the chamber. He wasn't hiding in the shadows or behind the door to pounce on her when she entered. He wasn't shrouded in mystery. He was sitting in a chair next to a table with the remains of his breakfast and the untouched flagon of Arbor gold sitting beside him. He was looking out the window and didn’t look at her when she entered.

 

Sansa stared at him for a long time before she closed and barred the door behind her. The scarred side of his face was facing away from her. From this vantage point he could have been anyone else. She found herself amazed that she had never seen how handsome he was. His long nose was crooked at the bridge where it had been broken several times, but it fit his rugged appearance. He had let a short beard grow in but it was well kept and neat. His stormy grey eyes fell from the window beside him and he hung his head down into his lap. His black hair formed a curtain cutting her off from looking at him anymore.

 

She noticed for the first time that he was tied to his chair by the hands and the feet.

 

Finally, he looked up and met her gaze. The hair fell away from his face and she saw the telltale scars that she found didn’t bother her to look at anymore. She smiled.

 

“Is this one of the new games you like to play? Capture and tie up old friends?”

 

“You are lucky that you are an old friend,” she said mildly. “Anyone else would still be in the dungeons. You were causing a lot of problems in the villages.”

 

A knock came at the door and a serving woman greeted her when she opened the door. It was the Dornish wine she had asked for.

 

Sandor Clegane looked at the flagon of wine ravenously. “So you do have good wine here.”

 

“Of course,” she said pouring herself a cup. “King's Landing spoiled me.”

 

“You just keep the good stuff for the highborns?”

 

She smiled sweetly at him. “Yes, usually we do.” She drank deeply from her cup. “What are you doing in the North, Sandor?”

 

“It's as good a place to rot as any,” he spat.

 

“Why are you not at Clegane Keep?”

 

Sandor scoffed. “You couldn’t pay me to inhabit that ruin.”

 

“Then why not the Free Cities? Why come up here and cause me more problems than I already have?”

 

Sandor looked at her through his long black eyelashes for a moment while he considered his answer. “I was thinking of taking the black.”

 

“Fuck the black.” She was satisfied to see that she had gotten a shocked reaction from him. “Why would you become a member of the Night's Watch to freeze your balls off on the edge of the world?”

 

No, she wasn't a little bird anymore.

 

“What is the Lady of Winterfell doing worrying herself over the state of my balls?”

 

“Careful Clegane, you would do well to remember that I am the Lady of this castle and you are just a sellsword without his sword tied to his chair.”

 

“The little bird turned into a wolf,” he said with a smirk. “Good, but don’t forget what dogs do to wolves.”

 

Sansa smiled. “You taught me well.” She took a deep breath and braced herself for the refusal to her offer. “Instead of freezing your balls off on the Wall, how would you like to be master-at-arms here in Winterfell?”

 

Sandor looked at her skeptically through narrowed eyes. “Why would you ask me?”

 

“Who better? You are a highly skilled and highly feared swordsman. You have won several tourneys. You were the captain of the Kingsguard and sworn shield to the prince who later became king. Seems like you are quite qualified.”

 

He seemed to consider her offer for a moment.

 

“Besides,” she said. She knew he was thinking it but if she said it out loud then he wouldn’t be able to refuse. It was why he was in the North to begin with. “It will keep you close to me.”

 

Sandor laughed. “And why would you want me close? Your men aren’t going to like that the butcher of Saltpans is the one training and commanding them.”

 

“Was it really you?”

 

“Of course not. The youngest wolf-bitch left me dying on the banks of the river. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, let alone rape and murder.”

 

Sansa got up from her chair and walked over to where he was sitting by the window. She poured herself more wine and drank deeply. She poured a second cup and pulled her skirts up high over her knees. She saw Sandor tense and she smiled at him. “Behave yourself or I wont untie you,” she said pulling her knife from the sheath she kept strapped to her thigh.

 

She noticed that his eyes hadn’t left her legs.

 

“Then again, maybe I’m not ready to untie you anyway.” She was tired of being the perfect lady of the castle. He may reject her but she didn’t think so.

 

His eyes had flicked back up to her face with something like alarm. “I can't train your men with my hands and feet tied,” he said as she laid the knife on the table.

 

Sansa pulled the laces on the back of her dress allowing her breasts to spill out from the neckline as it fell from her shoulders. He eyes never left Sandor. He looked at her as if she had just stabbed him in the chest. It was surprised and a little sad. He looked down at her exposed nipples making her skin feel hot where his eyes where licking at her bare flesh.

 

“So are you accepting my offer?” she said as the dress fell down her legs and pooled into a woolen heap around her feet leaving her in her short thin cotton shift.

 

Sandor greedily explored her body before meeting her eyes again. “Little bird, what are you doing?”

 

“Is that a yes?” she said as she shrugged out of the shift. She was standing in front of him completely naked now. She closed the small space between them and straddled his lap. She felt the hard length of his erect manhood brush against the sensitive heat of her sex and gave an appreciative moan.

 

He groaned low in his chest and fought against the ropes holding his hands behind his back. Sansa saw anger flash through his eyes before they clouded over with arousal. She swiveled her hips over his cock again and his eyes went wide as a rush of moisture saturated his breeches.

 

“Little bird-”

 

Sansa cut off his words as she pressed a kiss to his ruined mouth. He bucked his hips up against her and she gasped at the friction against her clit. She was wet and ready.

 

“Just sit there and stay hard,” she whispered into his ear. She gave the lobe a nibble and moved her hips back to unlace his breeches. His hard cock sprang free and Sansa was suddenly nervous. It was just as big as the rest of him. He was panting with anticipation and his eyes wouldn’t leave the clean pink lips between her legs. She wasn't sure if he was even aware that he licked his lips or not.

 

Sansa scooted her bottom back up his thighs and positioned her soaking entrance along the shaft of his cock. She rocked her hips back and forth until he was slick with her desire. Sandor threw his head back and groaned as he again fought with futile effort against his restraints.

 

“Fuck, Sansa.”

 

She smiled at the reaction she was eliciting from him. Sansa reached down between them and took him in her hand. The skin was silky smooth and hot. She raised up and placed the tip just at the opening of her slit.

 

He may have been tied up but he wasn't completely helpless as he thrust his hips up into hers and penetrated her to the hilt. She threw her arms around his neck and cried out as she felt him fill her so completely.

 

As he thrust up into her hot and quivering body, his mouth sought purchase on any inch of skin he could reach. His tongue and his teeth looked for the tender skin of her neck to tickle with soft bites and caresses. Every inch of her body was tingling with desire as she rocked up and down; matching the rhythm he had set.

 

Not caring if they were heard or not, Sansa felt an unbridled lust overtake her as she moaned loudly in satisfaction. Encouraged by her excitement, Sandor added to the song with his baritone and bass moans and heavy breathing.

 

“Oh, Sandor. I've dreamed of this.” She could feel her peak quickly approaching.

 

“As have I, little bird.” he growled into her neck. “I'm close.”

 

She rode him in earnest until she could feel the intense heat of his orgasm filling up her insides. She shuddered as the sensation sent her over her own edge and her muscles contracted around the base of his twitching cock.

 

Their cries of ecstasy were surely heard all over the castle.

 

She rode him gingerly until he was wincing with a painful kind of pleasure and her throbbing clit wouldn’t take anymore. She looked down where their bodies were mated at the mess they had made. She smiled shyly and laid her head against his shoulder. His heart was racing and his breathing was still labored. He nudged her cheek with his nose and she looked up to meet his eyes. They were smiling brightly even thought the expression on his face was as stoic as ever. She kissed him tenderly and relished in the feeling of him inside of her body.

 

“You give a compelling argument,” he said lowly as they rested their foreheads against each other.

 

“So you will stay?”

 

“How could I say no?”

 

 


End file.
